She chased the dust motes, believing them fairies, reaching out with her tiny hands trying to catch at least one to have as a friend.
Slain sat at his desk working on one of the sketches, though his mind was not on it. Hannah had taken over his thoughts and would not leave them, and it had worsened since last night when he had kissed her.
He had been beside himself when he had gone to her room, why he had not been certain, to find it empty. His first thought had been that she had run away, but he had soon dismissed it. She looked for protection. She would not leave what she had found.
So the question had been, where had she gone?
That was when he had thought of what she had shared with him about suffering at the hands of a man similar to Muir. He knew then where she had gone… to free the two women.
Anger had taken hold of him at first, but as he ventured through the woods fear had begun to creep over him. What if he was too late to save her from her own foolishness, as he had been too late to save his parents and clan from his father’s foolishness?
When he had heard her scream, the anger that had been boiling up inside him spewed out, but it had been when he had seen Muir on top of Hannah that the savage broke loose. It had not been until he returned with Hannah to the keep and had spoken with her that the savage was soothed, but not entirely. He had wanted to taste pure innocence, or had it been that he wanted to corrupt it as he had been corrupted?
If anything, it had been Hannah’s honest response that had forced the words from his lips.
Do not ever frighten me like that again.
He had not realized how much it meant having Hannah there in the keep with him. The savage seemed to stay at bay with her around. She had been in his life for a little more than a week and she had already changed it. His only fear was that he would change her and not for the better.
Slain tried to turn his attention to the sketches. He owed a debt and the time to pay it was ticking away. His friend would wait only so long. Then there was the debt he owed his da, to revenge what had been done to him and the clan. It had taken time, but he would soon have what he needed to see it done and restore the MacKewan name and honor. But it would be he, himself, who made the man pay for making a fool of his da and almost destroying his clan. He would enjoy letting the savage loose on him.
“I caught a fairy.”
Slain was not only startled that he had failed to hear someone enter his solar, but that it was a wee lass who had done so. She was a pretty little thing, no more than four or five years, with eyes as blue as a summer’s sky and hair as black as raven feathers. She had full cheeks that were flushed pink and she clutched her tiny hand tightly in a fist.
“Want to see?” she asked, though did not care if he did or did not, she intended to show him since she hurried her little legs toward him and once around the desk, stretched her arms out to him. “Up.”
Slain obeyed the little bairn without question, reaching down to scoop her up and sit her on his lap.
“I show you,” she whispered as if it was a secret and pressed her tiny finger to his lips. “Quiet, no scare her.”
Slain nodded, trying not to smile, but she was so adorable, and so serious about the fairy she had caught, that it was difficult not to.
She unfurled her tiny fingers slowly and her eyes turned wide when she saw her palm was empty. “She gone.”
Slain felt a tug at his heart when her bottom lip began to quiver.
“Fairies are sneaky creatures and can slip easily between fingers. You were very lucky to have caught one at all, even if it was only for a few moments,” he said, hoping to ease her disappointment.
She raised her tiny hand to almost shove it in her face and scrunched her eyes as if to make sure the fairy was not hiding somewhere there. She suddenly dropped her hand and looked to the parchments on his desk. “What?” she asked as she leaned forward, pointing at the drawings.
Slain gave a snug tug of his arm at her waist to stop her from toppling off his lap. “Those are drawings.”
“Me do,” she said with a broad smile, her round, chubby cheeks popping high as her smile spread wide.
She was too impossibly cute to deny and he moved them both closer to the desk, giving her a piece of charcoal. It was only then he wondered who she was and how she had gotten into the keep.
“It is looking much like it did when Slain’s da, William, led the clan. Slain’s mum, Leala, welcomed all who entered here. She was a good woman,” Blair said, sniffling back an unshed tear.
“That she was,” Kate agreed and wiped away a tear before it could fall. “Leala would be proud that her son wed such a kind and caring woman.”
“That she would,” Blair agreed with a smile.
Hannah hoped that whatever she accomplished here would benefit all.
“I think with you in charge of the keep, Hannah, you may very well have some women looking to help here,” Kate said, casting a pleased eye over the Great Hall that now showed not a bit of grime or dust.
Hannah had hoped for just that. “That would be wonderful.”
Blair turned her head quickly as she cast a frantic look around the Great Hall. “Where is Cara?”
Kate gasped and hurried to search the room. “Here I am scolding my lads for not keeping a good eye on their sister and I go and do the same thing.”
Hannah joined in the search as well, praying the little lass had fallen asleep in a corner and had not wandered out of the room and, heaven forbid, had come across Slain.
“Is this who you search for?”
Hannah froze, as did the other two women, at the sound of Slain’s stern voice.
The three women turned to face him and their eyes bulged wide with shock.
Slain stood, holding the tiny lass, appearing even tinier in his powerful arms, her face smeared with charcoal, and his face streaked with it as well.
Cara grinned and pressed her little finger against Slain’s smudged cheek. “I draw.”
Chapter 15
“Please, forgive her, my chief,” Kate said, approaching Slain, worried for her daughter. “She is just a wee bairn, much too young to know any better. It is my fault. I should have kept a more watchful eye on her.”
“Aye, you should have,” Slain said, casting a scowl on the woman before looking at Blair, to lastly settle on his wife. “Things are done here for the day.”
The three women nodded in unison.
Kate cautiously reached out to take Cara and was shocked at what her daughter did next.
Cara turned, her little arms going around Slain’s neck, as much as they could fit, to give him a hug, then she kissed his cheek, and tapped his chin as she said before stretching her arms out to her mum, “I visit again.”
Kate did not wait to see what her chief would do, she latched onto her daughter and ran from the Great Hall, Blair close on her heels.
Hannah tried to stop the smile that had been fighting to break loose, but it was impossible to keep contained. Seeing her husband’s face smudged with charcoal and how Cara had spoken to him without an ounce of fear and that she planned to visit him again, simply warmed her heart.
“You think it humorous, wife?” Slain asked when Hannah’s smile turned to a soft laugh, a laugh that soothed and tempted, if that was possible.
“Heartwarming,” Hannah said on a faint laugh.
“You will clean my face,” he ordered with a scowl, whether over his wife’s word or that he should have her clean his face, not a wise choice, he was not certain.
“As you wish,” Hannah said, a smile still tempting the corner of her mouth. “Sit by the fire, a chilled rain descends on us.”
Slain watched her leave the room, then cast an eye to the windows. The day had darkened and rain pelted the windows and he could almost feel the chill that it brought. He did as Hannah said and sat by the fire, though not before noticing that the Great Hall looked as welcoming as it had when his mum had been in charge of the keep.
He
missed those days when the Great Hall was full of talk and laughter and his da would pay heed to his advice. He blamed himself for what had happened to his clan. He should have known his da was vulnerable. He had seen it on his last visit home and also that his mum had not been faring well. He had warned his da to make no decisions until he returned home. He should have known he would pay his warning no heed. All that had happened was more his fault than anyone and he intended to make certain to see that his clan never suffered again.
Hannah returned with a bucket of water and a cloth. She sat next to him on the bench near the fire, enjoying the warmth of the heat. A chill had settled into the keep and she wished she had a shawl to keep the cold from hugging her shoulders.
She dipped, then rinsed the cloth in the bucket of water, she had made sure to warm, and started on her husband’s cheek, her smile returning along with the image of Cara kissing it.
“However did your face get smeared with charcoal?” she asked.
Slain wanted to shut his eyes and soak in the gentleness of her touch. Her strokes were soft and easy, even when an area needed more than a mere swipe, she was tender in her repeated ministrations.
Her caring touch relaxed him and he responded without thought. “Cara’s little fingers were covered in charcoal and she insisted on turning my face to where she wanted it to go.”
“You were patient with her.”
Slain opened his eyes settling them on hers, bright green with curiosity. “Cara is part of my clan and a mere bairn at that, therefore, it is my duty to protect her.”
“Duty?” Hannah wondered if it had been only duty that had had him being so patient with Cara.
“Aye, I have a duty to my people and I will see it done. I will see my clan kept safe, no matter what it takes.”
His response seemed strange to her. If he felt so responsible to keep his clan safe where were his warriors? He had had them at one time, for her da had spoken of Clan MacKewan victories with anger and envy. Where was that contingent of men now who would go to war and battle for him tomorrow if necessary? Had they chosen not to return home with him from battle? Had they fled to another clan because of what had happened here? Unlikely since Highlanders were devoted to their clans, though riches could entice.
Hannah turned her full attention to his face, something she had been avoiding since taking the cloth to his cheeks. Her husband was a handsome man, his features finer than she had ever seen. They not only pleased the eye, but the senses as well and try as she might, she could not help but feel an attraction to him. But then he was her husband and she had a right to find him appealing and to also think that it would not be such a chore to couple with him.
It may have been seeing how easily he had held Cara in his arms that made her think he would make a good da. And though there had been an annoyance in his eyes when he had first appeared in the Great Hall, it had softened when his eyes rested on the wee lass.
The savage had more of a heart than he wanted people to know, or at least she hoped he did.
Slain warned himself to say nothing, let her finish, then take his leave, but he was finding it difficult, if not impossible, to ignore her moist, rose-colored lips. They ached to be kissed. Or was it he who ached to kiss them? Recalling the last time, he had kissed her, and had so enjoyed it, only managed to make him want to kiss her again.
Hannah wiped the last of the charcoal off his face, using her thumb to catch the small spot near the corner of his mouth.
It was Slain’s undoing, his hand went to hers, taking hold of her thumb and running it faintly and ever so slowly over his lips. It sent an intense rush of passion through him, turning him hard, his manhood growing even harder when the tip of her tongue peeked out from between her lips and licked them slowly, then she worried her bottom lip with nibbles.
Her innocent actions were much too tempting to ignore. His hand fell away from hers to cup her neck as he brought his lips to hers, brushing them faintly. Once. Twice, before nibbling softly along her bottom lip until it was plump and red, then he kissed her.
Her lip had grown so sensitive from his gentle bites that she gasped with the pleasure that shot through her and her breath caught again when his tongue darted in her mouth to mate with hers.
Hannah got lost in the exquisite pleasure, instinct having her respond as her tongue met his with desire and determination. His hand rode up under her breast to cup it, his thumb brushing over her nipple and it shot a shudder through her that was so intense that if she had not been sitting, she would have collapsed. Tingles followed, rushing to settle between her legs and left her feeling damp. That she responded to and loved her husband’s touch was undeniable.
His one arm suddenly coiled around her waist to swiftly move her off the bench to his lap. She gasped again when his hard manhood rubbed against her as he settled her there. All the while, he continued to kiss her, stir her, have her aching for him.
When he moved his lips off hers and rested them at her neck to tease with kisses and nips, she found herself whispering his name in his ear as if she begged him for something, “Slain.”
He raised his head, resting his brow to hers. “What do you want, wife? Tell me.”
Her response came fast and easily. “You, my husband. I want you.”
He got to his feet with her in his arms in a mere second and headed for the stairs when a powerful pounding at the front door seemed as if it shook the Great Hall.
Slain let a slew of oaths fly silently in his head.
The heavy pounding came again.
Disappointment gripped Hannah when Slain lowered her to her feet and moved her to the shadows. “Stay here. Do not move.”
Hannah had no time to nod, he all but flew to the door, though opened it only partially. The exchange with whoever was there was brief and when he turned and walked toward her, she saw that the passion that had flared so strongly in his eyes only moments before was gone. Sheer determination fueled by anger replaced it. Hannah wondered if that was how he looked when heading into battle.
“I have to go,” he said when he came to a stop in front of her.
“Where?” she found herself asking.
“That does not concern you.”
“I am your wife,” she said as if that should settle it.
“And are told what I choose to tell you.”
His words sent a shiver through her, but it was not passion his voice evoked this time, but an icy chill that delivered a warning. It annoyed her that the precious loving moment had turned so cold.
“When will you return?” she asked, not able to keep the frustration from her voice.
“Not your concern.” His voice turned curt when she went to speak again. “Not another word, wife, and make sure to remain in the keep until my return.” His finger pressed against her lips when he saw a protest spark in her eyes. “You will do as I say.”
Realizing it would get her nowhere to argue with him, Hannah relented with a nod and as soon as she did, he turned and left the Great Hall.
Hannah returned to sit at the table alone, wondering where her husband was off to. Her brow wrinkled. She had assumed Slain spent most of his time secluded in his solar, but had he? Had he been away from the keep the two days after they had been wed? And what of other times she thought him here in the keep? Had he been gone as well? And if so where had he gone and who had summoned him?
He had secrets, but then she did as well.
Helice appeared and set a hot brew in front of her.
“There is a chill,” she said and turned to leave.
“How did you come to know Slain?” Hannah asked.
Helice did not even stop walking as she said, “He will tell you if he wants you to know.”
It is not your concern. Her husband’s voice was clear in her head. I will tell you what I want to tell you.
Why did this place hold so many secrets? Was that why Slain had buried himself in here, to keep its secrets? She glanced around the Great Hall, empty, the cr
ackle of the fire the only sound. Could she get it to reveal its secrets to her?
The one place that might reveal something to her was Slain’s solar and with him gone… she hurried off the bench.
Once she was in the solar, Hannah quietly closed the door behind her. Slain’s solar was vastly different from her father’s, not that she had been allowed in it. Young and being more curious than wise, she had snuck into her da’s solar one day. It had been nothing like Slain’s. No books. No parchments with drawings, not even a crude map or a tapestry that told a tale. It had held the barest of furnishings, giving no hint to the man who occupied it. She had wondered what her father did there.
Her mum had found her and had punished her with confinement to her bedchamber for the remainder of the day and the next entire day. It had been torture for her, especially since her peek into her da’s solar had been for naught. Though thinking on it now, she had found something… emptiness. There had been nothing in that room that spoke of her da, unlike here in Slain’s solar.
She walked over to the chair that sat near the fireplace, a narrow, squashed pillow a sign that someone had sat braced against it. A small wooden footstool was positioned a distance away from the chair, evidence it was for a person with long legs who wished their feet close to the heat of the hearth.
Hannah imagined Slain’s long legs stretched out as he sat there reading a book from the few that sat stacked on the small table beside the chair. Her mother had taught her to read, she having learned from an aunt who had felt it important. Her aunt, a woman of daring courage, had transcribed several poems and presented the small volume to her mum. Her mum had first read them to her, then used them to teach her to read. It was a cherished possession of her mum’s that she wished she had.
Hannah made her way slowly over to the desk, her interest drawn to the parchments there. She sat in the chair, surprised by the cushioned seat that felt welcoming. She studied the top parchment, the drawing having such fine detail that it was easy to see that it was a wheel device of some sort. There were written words as well, but Hannah was not familiar with the language.
Embraced by a Highlander Page 12
